


accounts payable

by dustofwarfare



Series: begin the end [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 10:31:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare
Summary: there are things you need to live a normal life. like groceries. and a last name.(set in thebegin the end'verse, somewhere between the last chapter and the epilogue. )





	accounts payable

**Author's Note:**

> this one-shot is a)an excuse for me to write domestic grocery shopping fic (yes really) and b)thanks to my play-through of FFVII in which i started to wonder where the hell you buy normal groceries if you're not looking for potions, ethers and materia like wtf where's the bakery even? 
> 
> also i had to buy like 238423 curiel greens to catch that one chocobo at the beginning of the game idek you guys :|

 

Cloud leaves early in the morning on a delivery, wanting to get out before the winter weather that’s heading for Kalm hits. He seems to be vibrating with tension, energy buzzing like lightning through his lean frame.

“You’re excited to go,” Sephiroth murmurs, running a hand down Cloud’s back.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Cloud looks up at him with calm, serious blue eyes. 

Sephiroth shakes his head. He knows the ties that bind he and Cloud together are too strong for distance to break.  

Also, Cloud is paranoid. He’ll come back, if only to make sure Sephiroth hasn’t tried to end anything’s existence. 

It’s still dark when Cloud leaves, but Sephiroth doesn’t go back to sleep. Instead, he goes into the kitchen and looks askance at the supplies. The pantry has a few canned goods, and there are some of Cloud’s Back Chocobo energy drinks in the fridge. Sephiroth would frankly rather drink engine oil or pure mako. He tried one on Cloud's recommendation and thought perhaps he'd been poisoned. 

There are also a few things in the freezer that are supposed to be “meals” but Sephiroth remains dubious of that claim. Cloud’s diet is truly deplorable. It rankles the part of him Sephiroth's not supposed to admit to still having, that someone who subsists on cold cereal and energy drinks killed him three times over.

There’s not much to be done about it until later, when the shops are open. Sephiroth goes through his katas, bathes and braids the thick fall of his hair.  He reads a book in front of a roaring fire while his hair dries enough not to freeze, and it’s…pleasant. Not quite as pleasant as it was a few hours earlier, when he’d had Cloud on his back in front of this same fire, moaning up at the ceiling. But still pleasant. He’s been worse places, for certain.

When it’s late enough, he pulls on a heavy wool coat and a scarf, then pulls a hat over his distinctive hair. He’s had to do this before, but it seems like a very long time ago.

The store is a brisk walk, about a half an hour, from the house they’re staying in. The house belongs to Vincent, who gave them the keys and waved off Cloud’s offer of monetary repayment. Sephiroth finds the store, which is new enough that the lights are too-bright and the floors and shelves too white. It reminds him somewhat unpleasantly of ShinRa, though he’s not sure why.

This is Kalm, and despite the rebuilding it’s always been a small town. ShinRa personnel looked down on it as provincial. He wonders what they'd say if they saw him now, and remembers most of them are dead. 

Sephiroth finds a cart and makes his way to the small selection of fresh produce. There’s not a lot, but enough he won't have to eat whatever a "pot pie" is. 

He pauses by the bright boxes of cereal, but doesn't put any in the cart. Sephiroth has accepted many things about his new life, but buying Cloud his Choco Puffs is not one of them.

The woman behind the counter smiles at him as he puts his groceries out for her to ring up. 

“Early riser,” she says, nodding in approval. “Me too. I never understood how people slept past seven in the morning. Lazy.” She clicks her tongue, picking up the items and writing something on a piece of paper. “Do you have an account, Mr…?”

Ah. That’s right. He remembers Vincent saying something about the store running on a monthly credit system or some other such thing, given the lack of a centralized bank and the uncertainty of the currency situation.

“I’m – not sure.” They’ve only been here two weeks. Sephiroth has no idea if Cloud brought his questionable provisions from Healin or if he purchased them here.

“You’re staying at the Harshbarren place, yes?” She smiles when he stares at her, uncomprehending. “The one Mr. Valentine’s renting.”

“Oh, yes.” What kind of a name is _Harshbarren_? Hopefully the poor person changed it to something less unwieldy. “The account may perhaps be under Strife.”

“Strife at the Harshbarrens? Well, you couldn’t make that up if you tried, could you?” She searches through an index card box. “Hmm. I don't see one for Strife, but Mr. Valentine has an account, shall I use that one or should I set one up for you?”

Sephiroth has no idea how long they’re staying here, but he’d rather not go through this again. “I’ll set one up.”

“Great, I have the address so….I just need your name.”

“Sephiroth.”

If she recognizes him, she makes no indication of it. She’s young, he’s likely nothing more than a name in a history book, to her. No Demon of Wutai, not Calamity’s Son. Just a man with a silver braid and strangely-slitted eyes. She makes a note. “Last name…Strife, you said?”

“No,” Sephiroth says, very quickly. “That’s not – my last name isn’t Strife.”

She waits, patiently. It feels like he is making some sort of declaration, but he doesn’t know why. He’s never had a last name, never had a reason for one. He doesn’t even know Hojo’s, and using Vincent’s seems presumptuous and tiringly problematic for a great many reasons he doesn't want to to think about at the moment. If ever. 

“Crescent,” he says, at length. Because that’s the only name he knows with any certainty is his, and he supposes it’s as good as any other. Lucrecia isn't likely to speak up about him using it, is she? 

“Sephiroth Crescent.” She glances at him. "Your name is Sephiroth Crescent?" 

He doesn't blame her. He wouldn't believe him, either. “I came up with neither of them,” he says.

She laughs, but he’s not joking.

Perhaps he’ll change his name to _Harshbarren._

_***_

Cloud’s shivering when he pulls his bike in front of the small store in Kalm. He’s ready to be home, the air is cold and he definitely is going to need a warmer coat before he heads out again. Or he’ll bring Sephiroth, who produces as much warmth as a mastered fire materia. 

Cloud grabs one of the baskets, fills it with his favorite energy drinks and some cereal, and then stops. He should probably buy something for Sephiroth, who will not consume either of the items in his basket. Come to think of it, has Cloud pointed out where the store is? This is the first time Cloud has been here, but he has no idea if Sephiroth even knows it exists. 

Maybe he should have asked before leaving for four days. Cloud is not, he thinks, very good at this whole boyfriend thing.

He goes to the produce section, stares at everything in slight distaste and with no idea which sort of leafy green thing Sephiroth might prefer over another. There are carrots, some apples, and other assorted things that look vaguely like vegetables. Cloud grabs a few that seem to be the least-wilted, stifles a yawn and resists opening one of those energy drinks as he heads to the counter.

“Hi,” the woman says. “Do you have an account?”

“Um.” Cloud blinks at her, slow to understand. “No? I’m – it’s my friend’s house. I’m just…we’re just staying there.”

She nods, possibly used to people like Cloud, who give up only the bare minimum of information unless specifically asked for more. “What’s your address?”

He gives it to her after thinking a moment about the house number.

“Ah, yes. Mr. Crescent set up an account, are you using his?”

Cloud stares at her. “It’s Mr. Valentine’s house.”

“Yes, but it’s being rented by a Mr. Sephiroth Crescent. He’s been in a few times. Tall man, long silver hair, very…ah, unusual…green eyes?”

That’s Sephiroth, all right. Every detail except for the mention of a seven-foot sword. “Um. Yeah.” He’s still mulling this over, the idea that Sephiroth used Lucrecia’s surname. It’s a good sign, Cloud thinks. Maybe. Lucrecia was crazy, but it’s at least an admission that she _was_ his mother instead of it being an alien.

“Sir?”

“Oh, uh. Right. Yeah, it’s the same account. Or, um. I live there, too. Do I need to set up another one?” This is all mystifying to him. He wishes he could just give her some gil and go on his way, but the whole banking thing is still a mess and lots of small towns run on a monthly credit system.

“I’ll just add you to his, Mr….?”

“Strife,” says Cloud. “Cloud Strife.”

“Cloud Strife and Sephiroth Crescent, at the Harshbarren house currently leased by Vincent Valentine.” She stares at him.

Cloud’s mouth twitches. “That’s not even the weirdest thing about it. Believe me.”

She giggles and fills out the paper with the total. He signs it and hands it back. “Thanks.”

Cloud drinks a Black Chocobo on the way home.

***  
“Here,” says Cloud, handing over a bunch of greens. "I got these for you." 

Sephiroth eyes them, then looks back at Cloud. “Is this a comment on my dietary habits, or are you telling me I need to find my own transportation?”

“Huh? You like vegetables.” Cloud finishes putting his scant groceries away. “Why would that have anything to do with transportation?”

“Cloud,” Sephiroth says. “These are Curiel Greens.”

Oh. _Oh._ Cloud’s face and neck heat a little. Well, how was he supposed to know they put the Chocobo greens right out there with the ones for people? His mouth quirks. “Kweh?”

Sephiroth places them on the counter. He glances once at Cloud’s hair, but wisely keeps his mouth shut.


End file.
